


Night

by persephone_il (the_ragnarok), the_ragnarok



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-02
Updated: 2002-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:42:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/persephone_il, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair wakes up from a nightmare. He and Jim have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night

I still wake up sweating in the middle of the night sometimes.

Not very often, to tell the truth. I'm not very prone to nightmares; I'm more likely to suffer from really, really weird dreams of boys turning into cubes or stuff like that. When I do have nightmares, they don't make much sense; mostly, it's just this overwhelming feeling of loss and helplessness.

It's so much better to wake up with Jim that I don't even have words for it.

I mean, there he is, all warm and solid and real, rubbing my back and whispering without words or even just looking at me untill I know I'm okay and I can sleep again. There is no greater reassurance than waking up beside Jim Ellison.

But what I like most about it is that I don't feel lonely anymore. Because, don't get me wrong, sleeping with some shapely co-ed is a very fun experience on its own, but it doesn't do anything to melt that cold, hard lump that settles in my stomach every now and then.

Some of the nights after Jim and I started having sex were like that, almost self contradictory in the way I wanted to melt into Jim's skin and run away screaming at the same time. Pretty frustrating, I can tell you.

Now, though, it's about a million times better. So when I opened my eyes to see Jim Ellison watching me, probably trying to decide if I should be woken up from a potential nightmare or be left to sleep the sleep of the innocent, I smiled. It was pretty weak, I admit, but it was a smile nonetheless.

He touched my forehead in that totally endearing way of his, halfway between 'You alright?' and 'I want you', and said, "Everything okay, Chief?"

I leaned into his touch. Hey, I never claimed to be the proud and independent one; I like all forms of tactile affection and I'm not ashamed of it. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream."

He wrapped his arms around me, and I sighed contentedly. Maybe it's a father issue - or rather, a fatherless issue - but this is one of the things I like best about male sex. The safety of being cuddled in someone's arms, the knowledge of benign strength offering me protection just makes me all squishy inside.

"It was just a dream," Jim said. He wasn't really trying to comfort me; he knew I was better, just the same as I knew he needed to do something to help me whenever I felt down. Another thing I liked about him.

I didn't even whisper 'I know' to him, because it was pointless. Instead, I turned around in his arms and kissed him, soft and quiet and not really needy, more an establishment of reallity and of how good it was. He returned it, not initiating anything but rather letting me lead.

He's been almost apologetic whenever he tried to start anything with me these last few weeks. I get that; the man's super protective towards me, and he realizes that he shook me a bit those first times when he didn't even ask. When he found out how much the whole things scared me, he practically swang from guilt to lust and vice versa every five seconds or so. In the end, Jim compromised on letting me come on to him rather than the other way round.

I bet the overgrown jerk didn't even realize I've noticed how shy he'd become. Some Sentinel.

But I let him get away with it, like I do a whole lot more than he gives me credit for, and I figure I'll let it slide for a few more days.

But after that, it's payback time.

Meanwhile, I work on getting him on top of me. Another male sex specific turn on, being crushed into the bed. I'll have to convince Jim to try some Neanderthal tactics sometime, that'll probably be fun. Provided I can convince him I won't break, that is.

Jim is willing - eager, even - to comply to every wish I come up with. And it just so happens that he likes being on top of me. The big lug denies it, but I'd have to be completely oblivious not to notice the hard, hard thing burning against my thigh. I smile, this time for real; oh, this is going to be so much fun.

I haven't had him inside me for three weeks now, ever since all the rotten issues came out in the open. That night, he took me back to the loft and asked me to fuck him properly. He's been on bottom ever since. The first week, I figured he was getting off on it because it was so new. Week two, well, if he liked it, who was I to complain?

I was the one getting neglected here, that's who.

The thing is, you don't know how Jim treats someone he just fucked. Not precicely coddling, but... well, I guess 'tender' is the only word I can come up with. Like I'm the most precious thing he'd ever had in his hands. And, even though I hate being treated as though I'm fragile, it sort of warms me up in a way I can't explain. I guess we all have this inner child who wants to feel cherished and wanted, who demands attention and care. Who doesn't like it when someone else gets all the focus.

Don't get me wrong; I love paying attention to Jim, to every aspect of his body and soul, but sometimes I just want to be looked at and needed. Like I said, I'm not proud.

So I kissed him some more, just to make sure he knew I was awake now, and slid my hands up and down his back. God, I love his body - it's like this ideal of manhood. All those functional muscles, not some steroid pumped bulk but actualy useful body strength, hard and real.

Jim kissed me back, determined, and did his fair share of touching. I love it when he touches me; his hands are sure and firm and knowing, and he can unmake me into a squirming puddly thing within seconds. His hands strayed into my hair for a few seconds, rubbing my scalp. I hadn't washed it in two days and it was greasy and yucky, but he didn't seem to care.

He started rubbing against me, making contented noises. I felt the familiar tingle course through me, warming me, heating me, burning me. I opened my legs for him, letting his hard parts rub against every vulnerable spot of my body.

I've been sleeping nude for weeks, and I wasn't about to start wearing anything for bed, so we didn't need to get rid of pesky clothing. Just Jim and me and a whole lot of body heat. I squirmed against him, reminding him of who and where he was. He didn't seem to be forgetting, though, not with the way my name erupted from his mouth every five minutes or so.

I grabbed some lube and thrust it into his hand. Just to make sure he didn't get the wrong idea, I opened my legs some more. I could practically smell my own pheromones; he was probably nearing overload.

He held still for a second, and just before I started worrying about a zoneout he whispered, "Inside you?"

Well, duh.

"That was kind of the point, Jim," I ground out.

He hesitated for another second, then kissed me determinedly and touched me where I wanted him. It wasn't long before I felt his fingers inside, slow, reminding me of so many times I arched and gasped under Jim's touch.

He kept kissing me through it, gentle, soft kisses that spoke of reverence and love and need. He doesn't say much in bed - never did, and never needed to. I like it better that way, to tell the truth. I know I won't be able to find the right words for him - not now, not ever.

Then he pushed inside me, and I gasped. There were sudden tears in my eyes, not from pain - he's never hurt me in bed, not even in those clumsy, awkward first times. But I felt something flip inside me, saying "This is right."

Blair Sandburg, this is what your life should be like. This is what your life _is_.

I clung to him as he moved inside me, burying my face in his shoulders. Sometimes, sex with him feels so good it scares me, because there's no way I'll ever deserve anything so good.

Jim started moving faster, making those tiny grunts that drive me _crazy_. Then things started to blur a bit as he bumped into my sweet spot. I opened my legs some more, wanting him to go deeper, to reach inside to that place where I was torn and incomplete and lonely before he came along. After that, it was all quiet noises and warm pleasure in the heavy darkness.

After about a million years, I could think again. Jim slipped out of me and was licking my stomach and my dick gently.

"Oh, c'mon, Jim," I wheedled, "I'm dead here."

Jim looked up at me with that soft, open expression he hardly ever gets, even after sex, and smiled. He crawled up to kiss my nose, then, more thoroughly, my mouth. "Too much, huh?"

I smiled back. "'S alright. Just go easy on the equipment, you hear?"

He doesn't even bother to nod agreement before he goes back to business. To tell the truth, it took me completely by surprise that Jim liked the taste. I mean,when I just started doing guys, it took me forever just to get used to it, and it's still not exactly my favorite treat. Jim, on the other hand, just took me in his mouth one evening with no warning whatsoever, and seemed quite happy to have my come on his tongue ever since.

After I was clean enough for his liking, Jim climbed back up and burrowed against my neck. "Good?" he asked, like he did every fucking single night since all the shit came up to the surface. I sighed and held is face, looking straight into his eyes.

"Look, Jim, I'm getting sick of this, so you'd better listen to me: I. Like. Having. Sex. With. You. And I intend to do it on a regular basis, so will you stop being so fucking apologetic every goddamned time you touch me? It's getting tired. And so am I," I added, "so just tell me you get it and we can both go to sleep. Did you get it, Jim?"

He gave off a slightly strangled chuckle. "I got it, Chief."

"Good." I nuzzled the top of his head. Hey, I have to make the most of his hair before it goes the way of the dinosaurs.

After some minor adjustments in position, we both managed to fall asleep, me draped across him like a demented cross between an electric blanket and a teddy bear, but I liked it. I find that lately, I like a lot of things if Jim suggets them.

Hell, I've got myself a protector, a recipient to my repressed maternal impulses, a best friend and a heck of a partner, not to mention a bed-partner who has the best body _ever_. What's not to like?

* * *


End file.
